Checking It Twice
by Just My Cup Of Tea
Summary: It occurs to Bond, as he's sitting in medical on Christmas Eve, that the Quartermaster is Santa Claus.


It occurs to Bond, as he's sitting in medical on Christmas Eve, that the Quartermaster is Santa Claus.

He's waiting for a completely unnecessary exam - he was stitched up and put back together before he was allowed to leave Brazil - and somebody is playing Christmas music loud enough to make his probable concussion throb. The mission had been a disaster, needing Q's intervention as soon as he touched down in South America, and he'd needed Q's help almost the entire time as he was guided through no less than six countries.

He stops fighting and lets his eyes close - didn't anyone else think the lights were too bright in there? - and lets his thought wander.

 _He sees you when you're sleeping_

Q had had to hack in to almost every security camera in every hotel from Uruguay to Suriname to find him at one point, after Bond's enemy had managed to kidnap him and scramble the signal from the Nano Blood. He found him, raised a false alarm that allowed Bond to escape, and managed to direct him to a secure location where a previous agent had hidden equipment for him in the chimney of the safe house.

 _He knows when you're awake_

The Nano Blood, once Q regained signal from it, probably saved his life. He'd taken down the head of the weapons trafficking ring by blowing up the complex where they kept their weapons with their own explosives, but had gotten caught in some of the debris. Q directed a rescue team to his exact location, using his heartbeat tracked by the Nano Blood.

 _He knows if you've been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake_

He knows that Q blames him for losing his equipment, because the equipment brought to him at the drop off point, while still excellent, was his standard kit, no bells or whistles. He's used to this now. All the agents have learned in the last couple of years since Q became Q. Return equipment for one mission, get some of the new tech Q branch puts out. Don't bring back equipment, and you can expect your standard equipment, which in and of itself was of excellent quality and perfectly suited for the job at hand, but not necessarily very fun.

Bond is humming the chorus to himself, trying to keep himself awake, when he hears someone begin to walk closer to the gurney he's sitting on and reluctantly opens his eyes.

"Why, if it isn't St. Nick himself," he mutters. Q hears him, of course, and raises an eyebrow.

"Are you that concussed, 007, or is this another underhanded attempt to find out my real name?" Q says as he readjusts the intimidating device he's carrying.

"Just thinking that the equipment drop off was remarkably Santa Claus like of you."

"Really? I like to think of it as 'life saving' and 'unnecessary if someone would stop breaking and losing my equipment'."

"Speaking of equipment, what on earth is that?" Bond asks, eyeing the device in Q's arms with suspicion.

"I'm worried about the integrity of the Nano Blood after the signal was disrupted so easily. Just a few diagnostic tests and you'll be ready for the capable hands of MI6's medical personnel."

"Merry bloody Christmas to you too, Q," Bond scrapes out bitterly, while Q motions for him to take off his jacket. Bond does, because Santa Claus or not, he wants to be on Q's good side whenever possible.

Q rolls up his shirt sleeve with efficient movements and guides his arm into a circular device that makes Bond vaguely remember the day he got the Nano Blood injected in the first place. But thankfully there seems to be no need for injections, as Q pockets a thumb drive he pulled out of the device and slides Bond's arm back out.

"Thank you, 007." Q quirks a smile. "Nothing like Nano Blood data to make a happy Christmas."

"Another working Christmas, Q?"

"Against my dearest wishes, no. M has informed me that unless there is a direct terror attack on England that needs stopping I'm not allowed in the building."

Bond smirks.

"So you'll be working from home."

"You know me so well." Q smiles, then sighs heavily. "That's assuming my brothers leave me alone, which, since I'm fairly sure at least one of them is the reason I have tomorrow off, I don't think that's the safe bet."

"You have brothers?" Bond asks, surprised but pleased, because working with spies means that so few people he knows offer little tidbits of their life as easily as Q. And then, because it needs to be asked: "You have brothers that are the reason the head of MI6 makes you take Christmas off?"

Q hums an agreement.

"So one of your brothers - who apparently have a direct line to the head of MI6 - is going to call you up and demand your presence at some kind of family dinner, and you won't be able to refuse because they'll know you won't have plans?"

"Correct. You would fit right in, among the madness of my family."

"Why, thank you."

"I'm not sure that was a compliment." Q considers a moment before continuing. "And you, 007? Any plans?"

"Assuming they let me leave medical tonight? Sit on my couch and avoid pulling my stitches out, to be honest. Well," Bond says after a moment, "if you say no to having dinner with me, that is."

"I can't say yes or no until you ask."

"Q, will you have dinner with me tomorrow night?"

"No."

"You don't want to have dinner with me so that you can tell your brothers that you can't come to dinner with them?"

"I could just lie and say I was busy if I was that desperate, you know."

"You're a terrible liar, Q."

Luckily Q is saved from having to respond by the MI6 doctor finally appearing to verify that Bond isn't dead.

"Well, I think I'll head home," Q says.

"To your cats and your Nano Blood data?"

"Only to be inevitably interrupted by my brothers tomorrow afternoon. Merry Christmas, 007."

"Merry Christmas, Q."

* * *

 _To: Q [Dec 24th 11:23 PM]  
If you won't have dinner with me, what about lunch?_

 _To: Bond [Dec 24th 11:25 PM]  
Medical released you then?_

 _To: Q [Dec 24th 11:28 PM]  
Yes. Lunch? _

_To: Bond [Dec 24th 11:29 PM]  
You're incorrigible_

 _To: Bond [Dec 24th 11:30 PM]  
Promise to never refer to me as Santa Claus again and I'm all yours_

 _To: Q [Dec 24th 11:32 PM]  
Does that mean you don't want me to sit in your lap?_

 _To: Q [Dec 24th 11:33 PM]  
I promise_

 _To: Bond [Dec 24th 11:35 PM]  
You can stop with the horrible pick up lines too_

 _To: Q [Dec 24th 11:37 PM]  
Never_

* * *

Q's phone is shrill and obnoxious the next day, and he reaches out blindly with his right hand for it. He doesn't have his glasses on so he can't read the name before he answers it.

"Hello?" A little moment of silence. "Merry Christmas to you too." A longer moment of silence. "I'm afraid not. I'm actually a little too busy tonight and won't be able to make it." An even longer moment of silence and then -

"Oh, piss off, Mycroft." And Q hangs up the phone, tossing it back onto the nightstand before rolling back over more securely in bed.

"I'm assuming that was your brother?" Bond says as he resumes kissing down Q's shoulder.

"Oh yes. I'm afraid I'm missing Christmas dinner."

Bond drags his mouth along a purpling mark he left earlier and Q hisses lightly.

"You don't sound very upset," Bond whispers against his skin.

Q runs both hands through Bond's short hair.

"Huh," Q says in mock confusion. "I wonder why that could be." He settles back against the pillows a little deeper and lets Bond sink against him a little more. "But he'll try again for New Years, I'm sure."

"I guess I'll just have to keep you busy."

"I suppose you will."


End file.
